


a study in restoration

by spiraetspera



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Childhood Trauma, F/M, Gen, Mention of abuse, Mutilation, impiled domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8387209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiraetspera/pseuds/spiraetspera
Summary: How Team Mustang found out the story of Riza's tattoo.' "This place makes me uneasy." Riza said. Then, after a heartbeat's pause she added. "We used to live in a house like this."Havoc stared. '





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am a slut for the team as a family and being protective of Riza Hawkeye. I should write fluff more, but I'm natural at tragedies so I write them more often than necessary.

The way Havoc retold the story years later to his kids made it sound much more dramatic and way less scary than it actually was. The truth was messier, sadder and made a lot of people truly uncomfortable - which Havoc was not particular fond of and found it made future reunions a bit more difficult to pull off.

 

*

 

It all started with a telephone call and the fact that Roy Mustang, not-yet-Colonel-but-soon-to-be, had a date and thus was not present in the sunlit office of Eastern Headquarters.

  
"A date my ass" said Breda, looking at the clock,

  
which very cruelly,

  
very factually

  
very punctually

  
showed that it was indeed still not ten o'clock.

  
"Espionage is not a monopoly, you know"

  
Meaning, that the Colonel did not have a unique charm or a unique right to meet beautiful women during worktime as work. For work.

  
Except, he did have the charm and did have the right.

  
Damn.

  
Fuery laughed, but both Hawkeye and Falman put their fingers to their lips.

  
Meaning, _kindly shut up, please_.

  
Ah, the joys of nonverbal communication.

  
That's when the phone rang on the Colonel's desk.

  
"I really hope something terrible, horrible is happening and we gotta save the town" mumbled Jean Havoc, in hope to get out of the office.

  
And this is, in fact, what exactly happened.

 

*

 

"Isn't this a domestic matter between neighbours?" Havoc inquired. Breda, Hawkeye and himself; also known as the Holy Trinity of Badassery, were on the way to one of East City's most prominent living district, the Orchard Lane.

  
Breda was driving, bless his heart. Riza was just as bad at driving as Mustang and Havoc hated to drive since her last girlfriend was very fond of cars and made him drive every single Amestrian vehicle on the market.

  
"Miss Vega's neighbour is a State Alchemist" answered the Lieutenant, her voice even. "She informed me she had no one else to talk to about her delicate situation."

  
Havoc scooped closer to them.

  
"Is she a strange cat lady who has nothing else to do but to spy on her next-doors?"

  
"I don't know what you are talking about." Riza answered, but her mouth quirked upwards and Havoc knew it was a yes.

  
"I called the Colonel before leaving" said Breda and made a beautiful, wonderful left turn. "Let him know where we are and what we are doing."

  
"We should report to him before 5 o'clock."

  
"Or we should just join him at the bar" Havoc adviced. "Clue him in there."

  
"The Colonel will return to HQ after lunch."

  
"Yeah, keep on dreaming, Hawkeye." this was Breda joining in the conversation and wisely avoiding his superior's stare.

  
Breda just kept on impressing. Havoc was in love.

 

*

 

Miss Lily Vega was indeed a strange cat lady, without cats but a demeanor which strongly reminded Jean of his great aunt, who was a baroness in her youth.

  
The Lady of Lacking Cats wore a lot of white lace and served them tea on a millenium old silver platter.

  
"Drachman silver" she corrected Breda when he thanked her for her hospitality. Riza made a noncommital noise and elbowed Havoc who tried his best not to choke on the tea. When they (The Lady) finished chitchatting, Riza pulled her plain blue notebook out from her uniform and started the questions.

  
It was a sight both Breda and Havoc cherished - when there was an investigation of any sort, Hawkeye was brutal, not because she was aggressive, but because she lacked any sort of bias or inhibition that would have kept her from asking questions that might have been regarded as slightly tactless. Riza had the logic and tenacity to dig deep until truth sprung out from the mouth of the victim or the offender.

  
"May I ask your full name, please."

  
"Alexandria Lily Vega."

  
"Age?"

  
"Forty seven."

  
"You complained about a breach of peace, is that correct?"

  
"Yes. My neighbour is testing something without any regards to the people who want to have some quiet here, just the other day I talked with Madame Prochatska - "

  
"Thank you. What is the name of your neighbour?"

  
"Gerard Rodette. He became a State Alchemist two years ago."

  
"And You believe he is testing something?"

  
The woman looked uneasy instead of haughty, for the very first time. Breda took over.

  
"Miss, you have our absolute guarantee of anonimity."

  
The Lady gulped and played with the laces of her dress.

  
"My garden was completely destroyed last week. The earth... as if it was moving. But just around our houses, just these two houses - his and mine. And there was some shouting too... I was confused and - "

  
She fell silent. Her face was stone again and when she talked anew, her voice was very gentle.

  
"You should talk to Mrs. Rodette. She is a very nice woman."

  
Havoc looked at his colleagues, seemingly just as shocked as him.

  
"He has a wife?"

  
Vega nodded.

  
"And two children. Please, you should talk to her."

  
Riza gripped her pen.

  
"Two children?" she asked, silently.

  
"Yes, Anna, who is ten and Benjamin, who is seven."

  
Havoc needed a cigarette and a drink. This was getting more and more awkward.

  
"Haven't you spoken to her?" Breda asked, and his voice had a hint of reprehension.

  
And then Miss Vega paled, and she looked like an old ghost, all small and translucent.

  
"When I knocked on their doors, no one would answer." the lady gulped. "And we see the family rarely outside the house."

 

*

 

"The man is definitely a nutcase." stated Havoc and lit his cigarette.

  
They were on the veranda, figuring out what to do next. The afternoon sun hid behind clouds, the smell of autumn and rain sat heavily in the air.

  
"We still have time left" Breda suggested, scratching his chin. "If we want to go have a look, it's our call."

  
Riza looked pensive. Something in her face was different, but Havoc could not exactly figure it out. The Colonel would know though, that walking-talking Hawkeye dictionary.

  
"We should definitely pay a visit." she said finally, and started to walk through Miss Vega's ravaged garden. "If asked, we were sent be the Colonel as a check-up."

  
Breda and Havoc exchanged a quick look. This was very unlike Hawkeye.

  
"Wait, wait" said Havoc, running up to her. "You would lie for a case like this?"

  
Something dark passed over Riza's quiet face.

  
Then Havoc realized what was so unnatural about Hawkeye's behaviour. She was _livid_. In her own, silent ways, yes - but she was enraged.

  
"We might even need to enter by force."

  
She looked them both in the eyes, hard. Not so much as a superior, but as a stubborn friend, a fighter.

  
"Sergeant Breda, could you please call HQ and ask for some officers?" Riza's face was blank again. She smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Tell them we need photos of Miss Vega's garden for evidence and to interview others in this district. I believe I saw a phone booth just around the corner. We will wait for you before the Rodette residence."

  
Breda saluted and ran off. Before Riza could have bolted off, Havoc touched her shoulder.

  
"Is everything alright?" he asked, not really caring he felt and sounded stiff. "You look like you are ready to kill someone. But I also feel..... like you want to escape from this all."

  
Riza smiled a weakweak smile and did not answer. It was only when they arrived to the Rodette house, adjacent to Vega's mansion did Riza open her mouth to speak again.

  
"This place makes me uneasy." she said. Then, after a heartbeat's pause she added. "We used to live in a house like this."

  
Havoc stared.

  
The mansion was enormous, and must have been beautiful - but the garden around it was overgrown now and the weeds wild. Its walls and the roof in the process of falling apart. Moss and mold was eating the place away. It was unkempt and unsafe.

  
"This place is creepy indeed" he said lamely, because Riza's behaviour still bugged him. "But, look: we have time to request permission in case he doesn't let us in."

  
_"Time?_ " said she, and her voice was sharp and her stare was accusing. Havoc recoiled. "Time is what we don't have, Jean."

  
"You are acting like the Colonel, you know." he retorted. It was her turn to recoil. "We don't even know if what the lady is saying is totally true."

  
Riza opened her mouth, and Havoc was sure it was something personal, because her nose and ears turned red - but Breda returned, huffing and carrying something with him.

  
"From the car," he said and put one of the bundles into Havoc's hand. " In case we need force."

  
It was a gun.

 

*

 

Riza knocked twice on the front door. When there was no answer, she rang the bell.

  
"For the love of God" said Havoc, honestly fearing Riza will reach into her holster and simply machete the knob into dust. "Let's warn them first."

  
Breda stepped near the door.

  
"We are soldiers from the Eastern Headquarters" he was not shouting, but Breda had this exceptional vocal range which made it possible for him to be heard if he wanted to."We would like to talk with a certain Gerard Rodette."

  
Someone yelped from the inside.

  
Riza reached for her holster and Havoc's life flashed before his very eyes.

  
Then there was rattling with the latch, a click and the door opened like magic.

  
The girl before them was suprisingly lanky, with dark hair and lots of freckles. Her arms were covered in bandages.

  
"Hey champ!" said Havoc cheerily, and the girl blushed, but still blocking the entrance. "You okay?"

  
"My name is Anna." she said, very politely. "What is your business here?"

  
Havoc turned to Riza.

  
"We would like to talk with your father for a bit." When the girl did not answer, she continued. "Is he home?"

  
Anna pursed her lips.

  
"Just mother."

 

"We would still like to talk to her, okay?" Havoc said, smiling again. Anna turned back, unsure of herself.

  
"We will wait here, if you want." said Riza helpfully.

  
The child nodded and disappeared from the door. In the distance, a tender voice melted into the clatterings of  dishes, then a woman appeared in the hallway, regal and lighthaired. She knitted her eyebrows at the sight of them.

  
"Soldiers at the house, that's a suprise." she put her hands on her hips. "My name is Amelie Rodette, how can I be of assistance?"

  
"My name is Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye and these are my colleagues, Sergent Heymans Breda and Officer Jean Havoc. We are here to investigate how your husband's researches are progressing."

  
The lie.

  
"Oh" said Amelie, her face mirroring the former confusion of her daughter. "Gerard is not here at the moment, and the study is locked - from the children, you know."

  
There was a very long pause.

  
Breda cleared his throat.

  
"Can we wait for him until he arrives?"

 

*

 

Benjamin was in the living room, just right to the entrance. He was a small, shy boy and had not uttered a single word when they came in. The house smelled ancient, but everything was clean and arranged. Havoc knew in an instant what they should do.

  
Riza went to the kitchen to accompany Amelia, and without a second glance, Havoc went into the enormous living room to talk to the children. Breda apologized and asked for the location of the bathroom, then disappeared right away. Stage one was on.

  
"I bet the other person looks even worse" said Havoc to Anna, who sat down across him, on a cushion. Ben kneeled down to the table between them, continuing what looked like sketches of animals. The bandages on her hands looked fresh.

  
"I was clumsy" she said in a hurry. "Fell of the stairs."

  
Havoc shrugged his shoulders, careful not to show he detected the lie.

  
"Happens to me all the time. It's fine if it's not your neck."

  
Anna stared at him strangely.

  
"So, you like the school here."

  
"Yeah, everyone is nice."

  
"What's your favourite subject?"

  
"Mathematics" said Anna, suddenly enthusiastic. "It makes so much sense and all you need is to pay attention and practice a lot!"

  
"You are lucky" smiled Jean."I was rubbish in math. Even more rubbish in history."

  
"Then you are like Ben"answered Anna. "His fave is the Arts."

  
Ben did not look up to them, but pointed at one of the animals he was drawing.

  
"Woah, kid" said Havoc loudly. He kneeled next to the boy. "You really are talented."

  
It was a sketch of a snake, a goat and a lion. All of the animals were detailed to the point of perfection, although the snake was not finished. Anna sat down next to them as well.

  
"I bet you didn't expect this." she grinned and Havoc grinned back.

  
"Nah" he waited then lowered his voice. "Although, I was a master at ventriloquy."

  
"Ventriwhat?"

  
Havoc imitated a snake but totally opened his mouth. Well, blessed are the ones who don't know what a ventriloquist is.

 

Both children gaped in awe.

  
"Do the goat, the goat!" pleaded the girl and the boy smiled a small smile.

  
He did so, and Anna was basically on the ground.

  
"Now, Madame and Monsieur - the Lion!" announced Havoc and roared, and Anna laughed and Ben finally laughed too, making a strange sound.

  
Jean Havoc felt his heart stop.

  
Benjamin Rodette had no teeth and no tongue.

  
Anna clasped her hands to her mouth.

  
"What the fu-"

  
"I'm home!" said a cheerful voice at the doorstep.

  
In a heartbeat, Anna and Benjamin ran out to the hall; leaving Havoc dumbfounded and horrified. He heard the children's delight and the mother introducing Hawkeye and somehow Breda's gruff voice, too, just next to his body - but none of the noise was registered properly. His mind was just fog.

  
"You coming?" Breda repeated, crouching next to him. "Come on, we shouldn't leave Hawkeye alone."

  
He nodded and wandered after Breda, shocked and confused. In the hallway, next to Amelia and the children stood an average looking, bearded man with some fatigue in his eyes. Nothing exceptional or strange. Riza stood before him, straight like a knife.

"... to make a report on your progress. We would be grateful if you could show us your study, sir."

  
Havoc looked at Anna who did not meet his eyes. Ben lodged his face into the skirt of his mother, so a secret exchange of stares was out of question.

  
Gerard Rodette looked at the Lieutenant like he found something funny.

  
"Lieutenant Hawkeye" he said, and his smile was not unkind. "Are you an alchemist?"

  
Hawkeye looked like she was slapped across the face.

  
"No" she said, because she had not backed down yet. "But I am an officer of the State and I would humbly re- "

  
"Then my answer is also 'no'. Unless one of these gentlemen is a State Alchemist by any chance."

  
Breda looked away, but Havoc felt stones forming in his throat and stomach. The look Hawkeye gave Rodette was chilling.

  
"Very well." she said, after a second. "I will be back with a State Alchemist tomorrow morning. Please be present."

  
"It would be my honor."

 

Hawkeye saluted, her stance rigid and strung, like an arrow ready to fly. Breda saluted as well.

  
"See you later, champs" said Havoc, but none of the children met his eyes.

  
It felt like a betrayal, to leave them there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My beloved subordinates and their sneaky ways,” The Colonel was grinning, but one look at their faces - a second stare into Riza’s eyes - and his face fell into severity. “What happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love them all. I swear.

“Let me get this straight: you spied on and basically raided a personal home, which by Article 2.56 is strictly forbidden unless you have a specific permission by either your immediate superior or good old Grumman.”

  
The smell of coffee hit their noses. It was way past five and thus almost dark by the time they returned. Fuery had gone home, but Falman was there, waiting for them and giving them a smaller lesson in military and property regulations. Any other time, Havoc would have yawned right in Falman’s face but at the moment every small thing unnerved him, made him either gag or be giddy.

  
Breda looked grim and exhausted; Hawkeye pale-faced and desperate. 

  
“Vato” she cut her teammate off gently, using his first name, which Falman only tolerated if Riza did it.“Does the name Rodette ring you any bell?”

  
The Sergeant Major poured the coffee first, the amount of beverages painfully equal. When he was finally done with distributing and serving the milk and the sugar, Falman sat down, facing Hawkeye.

  
“Rodette, Gerard." 

  
Here it came, the entry on Rodette. They were not suprised; Havoc was sure that Falman read every piece of paper in this Headquarter and this meant he memorized not only the rights and restrictions within the military world; but also the former and present list of alchemists who served the state.

  
"Forty-one year old, although he was accepted only recently -two or three years ago - at the Military as an alchemist. I believe he went to Xing at an early age, and studied alkahestry there - it only makes sense he researches alchemical ranges. The Long-Range Alchemist, that is what they call him.”

  
Breda grimaced. Havoc tried to make sense of this all.

  
“Does that mean he is trying to find out whether you can activate a circle from a distance?” he asked. 

  
Riza folded her arms, silent as a grave, watching Falman without blinking. The older officer’s face and voice was solemn.

  
“Oh, Alchemists can do that alright.”

  
“But let me guess, ” said Breda, impatiently. “There is A Problem.”  
Falman nodded.

  
“Mr. Rodette managed to activate _any_ circle within a radius of a thousand metres, but, the only thing he could do is to destroy matter, and not create any in exchange.”

  
Havoc thought of Benjamin, the missing teeth and tongue and his own mouth dried out. He felt sick.

  
“Riza,” he said, very carefully. “We need to go back tomorrow as soon as possible.”

  
Hawkeye nodded, determined.

  
“I talked with Mrs. Rodette and left my name and the number of this office. This woman…. "she trailed off, and there was something vulnerable on her face.

 "She doesn’t think we can help her and her children.”

  
“We need the Colonel.” Breda sipped his coffee. “We have an entry with him to the house and that goddamn study.”

  
“You haven’t managed to enter into the study?” Havoc asked, incredulous.  
Breda looked irritated.

  
“I tried everything, but no chance with the locks. Sealed with alchemy, probably.”

  
“Still,” Falman frowned. “You are officers of the State, it is in your rights to -”  
“To have a peak into a study full of personal secrets?” said a voice at the door.  

All of them stood and saluted. 

  
It must have been cold outside, for it colored Roy Mustang’s Xingese features rosy. He waved away their greetings, motioning them to sit. Falman started to prepare another coffee, earning an eternally grateful glance from Hawkeye.  
  


“My beloved subordinates and their sneaky ways,” The Colonel was grinning, but one look at their faces - a second stare into Riza’s eyes - and his face fell into severity. “What happened?”

 

* * *

 

Havoc gave up his chance for a good night’s sleep. It was nearing ten when at last all three of them shared their side of the story, their opinions and their alternative solution for the case.

  
Reluctant as he was, Havoc told them about Benjamin and Anna - the lie and the lack, too. 

  
Falman buried his head in his hands, shaking. Breda too, looked definitely shaken. Next to the Colonel, Riza stood, ashen-faced and rage radiated from her as if she was a bomb, ready to explode. The Colonel maintained a mask of impassivity. 

It was strange, to see their role switched, Mustang being coldblooded and objective while Hawkeye almost drowned in her own fit of fury.

“I see” said their leader after a great pause. “What do you think Falman, can we arrest him tomorrow?”

The Lieutenant opened her mouth, for what was probably the first time in her life to openly protest Mustang - but Roy looked at her, both tender and cautionary. She stared back, defiant but mute. 

Breda and Havoc shared the kind of look which they always shared when Mustang and Hawkeye started a complex mental conversation with their eyes only. Honestly.

Then the Colonel turned back to Falman. 

“So?”

Falman rubbed his eyes; and Havoc knew what it was going to be before he said it.

“Without any evidence, I am afraid not.” he looked sincerely upset. “We would need at least a confession from the wife or one of the children to have a strong case.”

“Or something from the study?” Breda proposed, visibly maddened by their helpless situation.

“Yes, that would do too.”

Riza finally spoke.

“Sir, Mrs. Rodette generally escorts both children to school between seven thirty and eight thirty. That leaves us an hour with Mr. Rodette alone.”

The implication was clear for all of them: “ _There won’t be any witnesses._ ”

Hawkeye’s eyes were pleading and Mustang could not look away.

“Very well.” he said, determined. “Let us meet at six in the morning at the head of Orchard Lane.  I will alert Fuery too.” He stood, suddenly sheepish but still driven. “I will have to ask something of you, Lieutenant.”

Riza straightened up.

“Anything, sir.”

“Please, stay home tomorrow.”

Time seemed to freeze in the small space of the office. Hawkeye stared at the hole above Mustang’s head.

“I am denying the request, sir.”

“It is an order then.” said he, steely. “You cannot come.”

Breda muttered something like “ _Rest in peace”_ under his nose. Havoc felt like they became spectators for something forbidden. Vato Falman found something visibly and amazingly strange on one of the desks and tried to become as small as possible. All three of them, grown-ass soldier men, were blushing. 

“With all due respect,” Riza’s voice was clear and dispassionate; her eyes still glued to the wall. “I am your bodyguard. It is my duty and work to go wherever you go.”

“With all due respect,” answered Roy, with some anger on his face. Havoc joined Falman to inspect one of the papers on Breda’s desk. “I do not think you are fit to deal with this case.”

“I am perfectly capable.”

“You are…. _implicated_ and I am afraid you are affected in ways that I deem…. unsafe.” replied Mustang very carefully. Hawkeye finally stared at the Colonel, hard and ready to revolt.

“Officer Havoc, Sergeant Major Falman and Sergeant Major Breda,"she said very softly and very calmly, but never breaking eye-contact with the Colonel. Roy tensed. "Would you excuse us for a minute, please.”

“Time to go home then.” said Havoc loudly, not caring of Falman’s disapproving look. The older officer practically ran out of the door, followed by Breda who nodded and collected Falman’s coat and his as well. Jean gave Riza a thumb up she did not see. 

When he shut the door, he could catch a glimpse of the Colonel’s hands reaching for Hawkeye’s.

 

* * *

 

Orchard Lane was still semi-dark and covered with a thin coat of November frost when Havoc arrived. The houses were dark and still, ignorant of his own foreboding.

“We are the first one, it seems” said someone directly behind him. 

“Fuck! Fuery!”

The kid did not even a bat an eyelash. Havoc swore again, mentally. Kain was a true barrack kid -  this must have been a lullaby to his ears.

“Sergeant Breda called ten minutes ago,” the Private said, picking up what looked like two very heavy looking suitcase, probably full of tech stuff. Havoc took one of the bags and waited for the younger man to catch up with him. “He just picked up the Colonel and the Lieutenant at his flat.”

Havoc was very grateful for the dark because his face had a very hard time not showing how utterly unsuprised he was at the implications that a) The Colonel was a weak-ass when it came to Hawkeye b) The Colonel was even more of a weak-ass when it came to rules and regulations.

“Sure,” he said in a flat voice. He stopped just next to the entrance of Miss Vega’s garden, their silhouette visible before the white fence. “Let’s wait them here.”

Just about five minutes later a smaller truck appeared, carrying a butcher’s logo on it. Both Fuery and he knew this bulky vehicle belonged to Falman’s sister, whose boyfriend had dealings in meat-trade. 

The car pulled up short before them. Then a grinning face (Breda) and a sleepier, more disheveled head (Falman) welcomed them from within.

“Want a ride?” asked Breda, winking.

“You bet your ginger ass, Heymans” beckoned Havoc and helped Fuery to crawl in the back. 

The space in the back was roomy, even though the tension was edible. 

Riza Hawkeye was adjusting her turtleneck in tandem with combing her hair; facing the Colonel who was drinking either water or tea. They looked uptight and exhausted, but there was no anger in their eyes. Havoc felt like a child whose parents made up. 

“Here, take these;” said Fuery, distributing earpieces. “It has a range of a kilometer, so we can all communicate during the mission.”

Roy showered him with praises which made Fuery speechless with joy and made Havoc snort so loudly Riza looked up. The Colonel had a tragic history with anything connected to technology.

Breda stopped the engine, and they climbed into the back with Falman. 

Colleagues - no, friends - who shared the same passion for justice and truth sat in a circle, smelling of yesterday’s fatigue and the meat of this car. Still, Havoc always felt otherworldly, even noble, before a mission such as this. They belonged, the six of them, together. They could do this.

“We can do this.” echoed Mustang, putting his beverage down. 

“The objective is to find out what is going on within this household. But above all: we are keeping Amelia Rodette and the children safe. If there is a conflict then we will use force to catch Gerard Rodette.”

He folded his hands and looked straight at them all.

“Another thing. I did not bring and will not use my gloves, because I do not know whether Rodette could or would abuse my gloves. Even without my physical initiative, he could find a catalyst that would set the alchemical process in motion. And it is not my wish to accidentally burn one of you.”

“That means,” continued Hawkeye, calm and comforting. “That the Colonel will need another backup. We talked over these plans yesterday,” - Falman, Havoc and Breda shared The Look - “ and decided that it will be Havoc and myself who will join him inside the house; Breda will stand outside in case Mrs. Rodette comes home early. Falman and Fuery will remain here, in the vehicle, to connect us with each other, the Headquartes and the outside world in general.”

“Questions?” asked Mustang, and Breda, ever-practical, raised his hand. 

“Yes?”

“In case of absolute emergency” Hawkeye closed her eyes. “Do we have a right to shoot Mr. Rodette?”

Mustang smiled and it was a bitter, sharp thing.

“Yes. You have my clearance.”

 

* * *

 

At seven thirty sharp, just as Hawkeye reported and predicted, Mrs. Rodette left the house. 

But only Benjamin was with her; and two of them hurried away, looking distraught.

All of them were still in the car, waiting and praying.

“What’s going on?” murmured Breda. “Where is Anna?”

Hawkeye’s mouth was a narrow, white line. She looked like she expected this. 

“Come on, Champ” mouthed Havoc. “Come on out.”

Ten minutes flew by and there was no movement coming from the house.

“I believe he knows” stated Falman in a low voice, making Havoc grip his gun at his hips. 

They turned to Roy, who blinked twice and stood up.

“We are going in. Ready yourselves.”

“Good luck to you” breathed Fuery. Breda ruffled his hair and opened the doors. 

Once they were all standing at the sidewalk, Falman saluted and sealed the car from inside.

“Sergeant Breda” said Mustang when they reached the steps of the veranda. “If you have to choose between keeping Mrs. Rodette out of the house and safe, or coming into the house to help us - You are ordered to stay here and keep the others safe. Understood?”

Breda’s eyes fell to the ground - it was a sign he was not too happy with the situation.

“Yes, sir.” he said nevertheless, earning Havoc’s admiration once again. He walked near the sideways, and started scanning the street.

Roy hurried up to the door, Hawkeye and Havoc at his heels, careful and cautious to any sudden movement.

The Colonel knocked lightly on the door, three times.

Hawkeye readied herself, and Havoc moved next to Roy, to kick the door in.  
Several things happened in a heartbeat. 

Out of nowhere, Mrs. Rodette ran out with Ben in her arms and she was wailing with such force that it took them all off-guard; Roy and Havoc and Hawkeye froze, half-turned from the door.

“HE WILL KILL HER, MY DAUGHTER” her screams reverberated. Breda ran to her, and the car door opened - Falman jumped out to run after Benjamin, who started to sprint toward the house. 

“MY DAUGHTER IS STILL IN THERE!" 

Next to Roy - who swore profoundly, and snapped his hands as a reflex, only finding that it helped nothing - Riza paled even more, her face sickly and her eyes shining; and she bellowed, something void of sense. 

It shook Havoc to the core, this sound. Both men looked at her, mouth agape, as she crashed unto the door, creating a way in - and she ran into the hall, then upstairs. The Colonel cried her name out, forgetting himself and followed blindly.

"PLEASE” repeated Amelia. Breda was restraining her, trying to calm her with soothing words. “PLEASE.”

It was Jean’s turn to damn and curse. One last look at the mother and her boy - she fell to the ground, not fully conscious; and the boy was clutching Falman’s waist, who held him. The three men exchanged a look and Havoc nodded, and went into the house.

Everything was dark, the only light came from upstairs, from what was probably the study. 

Jean Havoc nearly tripped over the doorstep, into the Colonel’s back. 

It was a checkmate situation.

The room was windowless, packed with books. Papers, ink and bits of chalk lay on the carpet, crunching under their heavy boots. Gerard Rodette faced them, hanging onto Anna, who, like a statue stood silently, begging them with her eyes not to approach her father. 

Hawkeye was pointing a gun at him, but her hands were shaking very badly. Havoc followed her, but his hands were sure. He was not a tall man, but his head was still way above Anna’s. 

Mustang decided to make a feeble attempt to talk the alchemist out of the madness of it.

“Gerard Rodette, my name is Roy Mustang, I am an Alchemist like - ” he made a step and Rodette drew his own hands near each other - in front of Anna’s face. The Colonel froze.

“Don’t dare to compare yourself with me.” said Rodette coldly. “Do you have any idea how much work, energy, time and money went into my invention?”

Mustang opened his mouth to answer, but Hawkeye topped him.

“You have five seconds to let your daughter go and talk with us under normal and peaceful circumstances. If you do not cooperate, I will kill you.”

Rodette snarled,

“Tell this whore to shut her mouth.”

Havoc put his finger on the trigger. 

Mustang looked at Anna, and slightly tilted his head to the right. 

The girl shook her head, terrified. Havoc could not blame her.

“Champ, it will be alright” he said, audibly, forcing some calm in his voice when there was none in his heart. 

Anna sobbed and then very suddenly, very bravely, very gracefully crouched down. 

Rodette put his hands together before Havoc or Hawkeye could shoot. Anna’s hands caught fire in a second - bandages burning off, revealing the remains of an alchemical circle on her skin. And she screamed like they shot her, and she was on the floor in a minute, wailing.

“Shit! Don’t shoot him yet!” shouted Mustang. He practically jumped onto the other alchimist, grabbing him by the neck. “You goddamn _fuck_ , where is your -”

But then he stopped and Rodette, too, stared, incredulous, and Havoc felt his limb grow heavy and his mind blocked - _because Riza was on fire too_ , her whole back like a pyre, and she dropped her gun and herself on the floor and did not even make a sound. The uniform was melting off her in a second, material peeling off her like a second skin.

“No, please, no - ” stammered Mustang and crawled off Rodette and made his way on the floor toward his Lieutenant. 

Riza continued to heave and managed to throw herself on her stomach, a terrible, horrible spasm making way through her body and Havoc was not sure whether she was still sober and awake.

She made a sound, between agony and plea; but the Colonel was numb, he could not even move - and Havoc finally aimed and shot Rodette in the head; because it was too much, and it seemed like a solution. 

The fire died out - Anna’s screams and the sound of Riza’s body writhing had not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending, I really hope You will all find it satisfactory. I adored writing about this patchwork family of my heart. Enjoy, and if You have time and energy, comment :)

_“Havoc! Officer Havoc! Jean!”_

  
He felt like waking from a nightmare that had not ceased to continue. Fuery was repeating his name over the earpiece, but could not make himself answer. 

Whether it was seconds or minutes or hours that passed, he wasn't sure. Anna fell quiet, her hands and the fresh wounds at the mercy of open air and the dust. Yesyes, she needed medical treatments; disinfectants and a good rest. 

Havoc took a step towards her, but she sat down on one pile of papers instead, and started to tremble and cry again.

The Colonel reached Riza who was panting loudly, but made no movement whatsoever. 

“Havoc!” This was Breda, shouting in his ears and he finally answered, voice raspy.

“Breda, call an ambulance and officers - Tell Mrs. Rodette her daughter is alive but she is in shock.”

“You alright?”

“Hawkeye is down, she needs to be tended to as soon as possible.”

“Shit” mouthed Breda into his ear. “Hang on, I am sending Falman up to carry the girl down. Can she stand? Her mother is hysterical.”

Anna looked up at him, her eyes a bit more focused. 

“Breda - ” he tried to avoid the panic creeping in his voice.“ Please hurry. And tell Falman to come upstairs slowly. Without weapons.”

He wanted to run to Riza Hawkeye, check if was doing better, but Anna was his priority now. First putting down his guns, he began to unstrap his bullet-proof vest, and began to look less intimidating.

Anna was following his every movement when he kneeled before her and showed him his hands - his whole body showing openness, honesty and trust.

“Champ” the name sounded way too light and absurd in the situation but he took a deep breath and continued. “It is over, okay? We gonna get you out of here and leave all of this behind, okay?”

Anna’s eyes slid to the corpse of her father and Havoc chanted ’ _fuck_ ’ three times in his head, but decided not to comment anything further.

“Is he….” the girl’s voice trailed of and she looked at him again.  

Havoc nodded. 

“And is she….” the girl now looked at Riza. Mustang was holding her and trying to form a pillow out of his coat. She was mumbling something. Havoc’s heart thundered in his ears. 

She was alive and breathing.

“I think she is alright” he said, throat tight, not certain at all.

Soft steps broke their contemplation. Vato Falman was pale with what Havoc could guess as anxiety. He took one look at them all and went very still until Jean motioned him closer.

“Hello” said Falman as he looked at Anna. He smiled his kindest smile and Havoc loved him for it. “Your mother and brother are waiting for you outside, Miss. If you would like, I can accompany you.”

Anna nodded and scrambled to her feet, not reaching for Falman’s extended hand. Looking at her hands, the older man apologized but the small girl cut him off, thanking. Vato looked sheepish. 

“We will meet soon” said Havoc, not looking at them, but at Riza. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Falman nodding. They were, it seems, beyond formalities such as saluting.  

At the door, Anna turned to Havoc and her voice was shaky and her eyes glossy.

“Thank you for saving my life.” Havoc’s heart sank and he and Falman bid goodbye to each other with a glance.

 

* * *

 

The exact moment Falman’s tall silhouette and Anna’s lanky frame disappeared, Havoc jumped to the Colonel’s side in an instant.

“Riza!” the woman did not answer. 

Mustang had laid her down on her side, so to avoid the unnecessary pain of contacting the floor. 

His superior looked catatonic; he was gently stroking his Lieutenant hair and mumbling something he could not understand. 

“Is she alright?” repeared Havoc and turned his head to check her back, seeing how devastating the burn was. 

“An ambulance is coming, they should be here any -”

But he could not continue, for Riza’s back was far from anything relatively well. Her back showed a history of abuse: 

a giant, elaborate and continuously scarred and marred tattoo that resembled… that was - that icon; _that image…._

Years later Havoc would call what he had done a “slip of subconscious”. 

At that moment, on the fourth of November, crouching and kneeling on the dusty floor of the Rodette attic, he knew that threatening his superior meant a career suicide. 

He did not care.

And thus Jean Havoc grabbed Roy Mustang by the collar of his crumpled uniform and yanked. Hard.

“What is that on her back?"  

The Colonel-to-be; the hope of this country, that otherwise reliable and ever shrewd man made a rasping sound. His eyes finally focused on Havoc.

"It is not my place to… This is no _time_ to -”

Jean Havoc swore. Loudly.

“How long have you known this? Why did you had to let her come? And why in the _everloving fucking hell_ is _your_ alchemical circle on her body?”

“Enough.” said Mustang with such a finality, such determination and such strength that made Havoc shook to the core. 

With rage. 

The alchemist looked down when he spoke again.

“I swear on my life and everything I hold dear that I will explain it. _Later_. Right now, help me to keep her alive.”

“Yeah, I will help you carry her into the hospital, alright and then I will help you explain the goddamn fuck of this situation." 

He did not let Roy go.

Then a very strong hand clasped Roy’s hand that rested on Hawkeye’s head. Both men jumped slightly. 

Riza opened her eyes and her voice was soft and so, so, so weak:

"No” she gulped and winced. “No hospital.”

And then she looked at Mustang like she was reminding him of something.

It was a look of promise; a look of trust. Havoc was excluded.

Mustang’s hand trembled under Riza’s eversure touch. His face fell into a shadow, like he was drowning in faceless, nameless guilt.

“No hospital, then” exhaled Roy finally, sounding eternally sad.

“You got to be kidding me. _FUCK._ ”

“Jean” Riza was pleading him now, the touch of her fingers light and warm. She was burning up. “Please.”

Havoc trusted them both with his life but he felt devastatingly disappointed. 

And confused.

And helpless.

Riza closed her eyes again, inhaling deeply. Her arms went to her chest, collecting the remaining material of her uniform. 

Havoc swore again while picking off and throwing his sweater to Mustang.

"Fuery” he said into his earpiece. “We need the car.”

 

* * *

 

“Where to then?” inquired Breda when he stepped out of the house, carrying Hawkeye in her arms. 

Havoc did not answer, but instead was adjusting his sweater and Roy’s coat on Riza’s torso; trying cover as much surface as he could.

Her back had already started to eject as much fluid as it could. It was a warning, a revolt against the fire, he knew that much. He also knew that she needed a great deal of water to drink and to clean as soon as possible. 

Farther away, Mustang was talking fast to Falman and Fuery, presumably putting them in charge of the family and the upcoming horde of officers and journalists who were sure to arrive within minutes.

The remaining members of the Rodette family sat in the grass, holding on to each other quietly. 

Roy returned.

“Does one of you know where Rebecca Catalina lives?”

Havoc eyed him.

“I do.”

“Perfect” said Roy grimly.“Sergeant Breda, you are driving us there; Havoc and I will stay in the back with Hawkeye.

"Why not wait for the ambulance?” asked Breda, but one look at the other men and he started to march to the car without a word. “Does the Sergeant Catalina live at the barracks?”

“Negative” gritted Havoc through his teeth. “Hyeronimus Brock Street 48, third district.”

“Good for her.” Third district was close to the Headquarters.

It took another five minutes to lay down Hawkeye. Breda placed all of their coats next to each other and even asked Mrs. Rodette for one of their towels. The lady agreed without a second thought, and Breda made a turn within a minute. 

“On her stomach” warned Roy quietly. His face was the color of milk gone bad; like he was the one suffering instead of Riza. “And let’s leave her back as uncovered as possible. The wounds need air.”

Breda’s eyes widened and his lips parted when he held the sight of her back, but he didn't comment.

“Is Rebecca even home?” asked Havoc once the engine started and they rolled on to the street. 

“I don’t know.” said Mustang quietly, fixing his stare on Hawkeye’s face. “We gotta try.”

Breda’s eyes kept checking them on the mirror. 

Havoc could not contain himself.

“Some of those burns are older, aren't they?”

Breda accelerated, the truck was close to flying, a thing so dynamic - and yet here, in the insides of this car, if he was one step more static, Mustang might as well been dead. 

“Yes.”

Havoc’s glare burned holes in his face. 

“Look ” he begun and kept his voice down.

And yet when he talked it was strained with so much emotion, because he simply had enough. He wanted Out for all of them; for Riza. Especially Riza.

“I do not exactly know what happened back there. I do not exactly know what had or is happening between the two of you. But I am _a guardian_ too, and so are _you_ , regarding _our_ body. Her safety is my and your responsibility. So when you are keeping shit like this the rest of the team, and she is ashamed of something that was clearly not her doing - then you should really think about what kind of leader are you becoming.”

At least an explanation or a solution - yes, that is what Havoc wanted to hear and see Hawkeye smiling because it felt like years since he had seen her face light and relaxed and not in pain or worry. 

Roy lifted his eyes to meet his.

“It was her decision. And I wanted to respect that.” _I wanted to respect her_ , Havoc heard.

“Was the tattoo her decision?”

Mustang face was stone. He could not meet his eyes.

“The burning was.”

They stopped and Breda turned around.

“Permission to speak freely, sir”

“Granted, naturally” said Mustand, tired. 

Breda climbed back, very careful not to disturb or touch Riza.

“Sir, if Catalina is not home or fails to let us in, let me take the Lieutenant into the nearest hospital. I will not care if you or her stays angry. She is in pain. She needs help.  _Please_.”

Havoc and Roy stared. They rarely seen Breda this emotional.

The shorter officer continued, voice low and confident.

“Falman had given me a list about every hospital and medical centers nearby. I can get her there within ten minutes.”

Roy held up his hands.

“If Catalina is home, she will let us in.”

 

* * *

 

"I’m coming, be patient!” sang a clear and loud voice. In a second, the handsomevivid face of Rebecca Catalina appeared.

She had to but take one long look at their face and she knew. Hands flew to her mouth, clasping it.

“Riza” she whispered. Before Havoc could nod, Rebecca looked at Roy, hard. “ _What happened_?”

“Her back” answered Roy, shame in his voice. Rebecca seemed to know.“We need your help.”

It took another fifteen minutes for Havoc and Mustang to carry the lifeless lump of Riza Hawkeye to the third floor of the building, where Rebecca resided. 

Taking the elevator would have been more practical, but they did not want to risk being seen and took the fire escape instead.

Becca opened her door again and let them in.

“God” she said, and tears were welling in her eyes when she looked at her friend. Ache was visible on her face.

Her bedroom was clean and made, but she motioned them to put her right into the bed and not mind the sheets. 

“She deserves the best” she said curtly. “And now get out, I’m going to tend to her.”

Breda arrived a minute later, he told Falman and Fuery where they were and that they were safe.

“The family is at the Holy Eastern Hospital for children. Anna’s hand will be alright within a month but they cannot do anything for the boy.”

Havoc expected this but the hurt did not lessen. 

There was a moment of utter silence; the flower-shaped clock on the wall created a certain rhythm of peace in this mayhem. 

While Becca ran in and out of the bed with medications and bottles of water and what seemed like infinite amounts of gauze, the rest of them sat down in the kitchen, trembling with fatigue and fear.One by one, they all offered to help but she said she will call them when needed - and Riza needs to see her face when she wakes - and Havoc could not argue.

Then Falman arrived a bit later, when Roy made some coffee for everyone and Havoc guessed Falman knew as much as they did because he did not accept the coffee Mustang made, but instead said:

“Sir, I need to ask something from you that cannot wait any longer” he motioned for Roy to sit on one of the chairs on the kitchen. “If you please." 

Then Falman turned to Breda who kept surveying their superior with a strange glare and Havoc put his hands on his hips and they knew that this is the moment of truth, the moment they would weight Roy Mustang and decide whether he is to be found wanting in the case of Riza Hawkeye.

Roy sat without a word as his subordinates stood up around him to judge his worth.

"Colonel Mustang,” said Falman in a low, in a broken and lost voice. They all knew the alchemist was not yet Colonel, but Vato was a clever man: he tried to emphasize the gravity of Roy’s role.

“Why is your alchemical circle branded onto Lieutenant Hawkeye’s skin?”

 

* * *

 

Roy started shaking.

Havoc wanted to shout. 

“The tattoo is not my doing.”

Breda did not look suprised.

“We figured this out pretty quickly.” Mustang looked up. “Hawkeye would never work for you if you had done something like this to her.”

And then it clicked: her anger, her desperation and her _rashness so unlike her_ ; the fact she would have died for Anna, the girl in the attic, so lost and so so vulnerable. 

Havoc wanted to vomit at the revelation.

“It was her father, right?”

Falman next to him groaned loudly.

“Berthold Hawkeye.”

“Yes” said Mustang, looking sick as well. His eyes were clouded: he was deep in memories he could and would never erase. “Yes, it was him but I… _she.._.”

“She was the key, wasn’t she?” asked Breda, very slowly and tenderly. He reached for one of the chairs and sat afront the alchemist and waited. “Your alchemy?”

“Anything I would say would be an excuse. She deserves _better, much much better, the best -_ but does not want it.”

He hung his head, defeated by his sorrow.

“Then you are very lucky, Roy” said Havoc quietly. “She loves you very very much.”

Mustang laughed, and it was hollow and black and closer to a wail than a laugh.

* * *

 

Rebecca found them all drinking coffee in silence. 

“Mustang, you _total simpleton_ ” she threw the towel she was carrying in the sink. “You thought of your gloves but not of her?”

She looked taller than all of them and fury made her voice cutsharp. Mustang shook his head.

“I was certain that the alchemical circle was brok-”

“Alchemy is as _UNPREDICTABLE_ as my granny’s taste!” screamed Becca and he fell silent at once. “It was a _big fucking risk_ and YOU KNEW IT.”

“Will she be okay?” asked Havoc.

Becca huffed.

“Yes. Her fever is down but she needs rest and a lot of water back into her body.”

“Do you have everything here?”

The woman crossed her arms. 

“No, she needs her own clothes. She is staying here with me till she gets better. I have disinfectants and a lot of bandage material too.”

“Infusion?” asked Falman.

“No needles.” said Mustang and Becca in unison. They shared a look and looked away.

Breda was the next to raise a question.

“You have a spare key we can use?" 

"Riza has one. She wants to talk to all of you anyways, so you can ask her now.”

All the men in the kitchen stood up.

“She is awake?”

“Are you sure?”

“She is not strong enough yet, we should-”

Becca put both of her hands up.

“Whether you go to talk to her or not is not my decision. It is her wish. You are getting fifteen minutes.”

 

* * *

 

Riza was very pale and looked much smaller out of her uniforms. The light of Becca’s bedroom lamp painted her hair even golder and her eyes a richer brown. Her torso was overbandaged and she wore a soft pink cardigan over the patchings.

“Thank you for helping me” her voice was rusty. “And I am sorry I put you in a difficult position.”

“Lieutenant.” said Mustang who was kneeling near her arms, just next to the bed. “Stop apologizing.”

Riza’s smile did not reach her eyes.

“Still, I must apologize” she looked at Jean. “I was not myself and I am sorry for shouting at you.”

Havoc grinned.

“It’s nothing. When you are up, you can get my ass to race you again.”

Breda snorted, and it was the same old habits they all fell into; the roles and the banter. Hawkeye smiled again, then her face was serious and she straightened a bit.

“I would like to tell you - ”

“Hawkeye” warned Breda, tenderly. “No need if you are not comfortable with it. We understand.”

Riza looked at Roy. 

“My father” she said after a moment, eyes still on Mustang. “Was an alchemist who would not trust a thing as simple as a paper. I was sixteen at the time and he asked me if I could help him with his researches. And I had agreed because it was important to him and I wanted to make him proud. So I became the research notes.”

Although Rebecca must have heard this story already, her face was screaming murder. Havoc felt the same way.

“He died a bit later and Colonel Mustang was an apprentice of his whom I deemed talented enough to share the notes with.”

“Fuck, Riza” said Havoc. Everyone looked at him. “It’s just…. not fair to carry this kind of… burden alone. This case; this must have been very hard for you.”

“That episode of my life is over.”

Havoc’s eyes flashed to Mustang for a fleeting moment. The circle on Hawkeye’s back was already burned, he, well, _they_ all remembered well - and it was Mustang’s doing. And Riza’s _desire_.

“Lieutenant, your father was a selfish man” stated Falman. “He did not deserve your kindness.”

“It may be” Riza said. “But what is done is done.”

Havoc opened his mouth, but Becca jumped and raced him.

“And visiting hours are done, too. Come on out - Yes, Heymans, you can have this key; but take turns or something, I don’t want you all here at the same time.”

Breda was still laughing with Rebecca and Falman was in the small hall when Havoc realized Mustang stayed in the room. 

He crept back, silent as a ghost, to peek.

It was not a scene he expected.

Mustang buried his face in Riza’s lap who leaned onto him. They were not kissing and they were barely touching each other skin to skin - yet it was a true and raw and even erotic sight. 

“…please just promise me… "said the alchemist, but Havoc could not make the rest of it out, but Riza seemed to understand and smiled into his hair and promised, like she had always done.

Their promises: in blood, at a cemetery falling apart when they bury your father, when burning, in ambition, in silent guilt, in the midst of war, and always in lovelovelove.

 

>  
> 
> _“with this bullet lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because it’s all I have, because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own._
> 
> _I’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this bullet inside me.”_
> 
> _[Richard Siken]_


End file.
